


cherry-gold dream flight

by ninthcompanion



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthcompanion/pseuds/ninthcompanion
Summary: “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess the other me did some good stuff, or uh… he must have, if you remember him. That’s nice to know, sorta.” Tavros looks up, watching pink heart and diamond clouds drift on by against the blue. Streaks of pale orange ripple through the sky like it’s day and dusk at once. “I’m just glad I got to be useful in the end, kinda.”





	cherry-gold dream flight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @inkwail on Twitter!
> 
> You can check out more about me and my work here: https://twitter.com/ninthcompanion/status/1005976885166268418

As far and farther as he wanders, Jake only finds haze -- just shapes drifting by like fuzzy clouds, tied to forgotten thoughts in sky blue and baby bedroom yellow. The path forward is lined by whispers and murmuring voices speaking in memories he can’t quite grasp. To somebody, surely, they meant something once. 

“Oh, uh... hey.”

Hm?

Now that’s a voice much clearer than the others. When he looks up, the white fog of noise and pastel dreams begins to clear. Jake finds himself standing in… a playground. Right in front of the swingset, where a rather confused-seeming lad stares back at him.

The only swingset Jake has ever known was a rope tied to a rubber tree with a tire at the end, nestled in the heart of the jungle near his childhood dome. A rubber wheel on a rubber tree -- he always did get a little chuckle out of that. 

The one in front of him, though, is something he’s only seen in the pictures, as it were. Or in those dreadful meme videos where some poor lad would swing and swing until they flew off and absolutely copped a mouse on a faceful of those nasty splinter-ridden playground wood chips that are honestly more dangerous to children than dirt so wait, why are they here at all? What confounded explanation is there for their omnipresence in this most supposedly child-friendly of locations?

Wait, wait -- there’s someone here in front of him and he’s just zoned out like some blind little bunny! 

“Oh applesauce, sorry! Just up and forgot where I was for a tick… erm, but it looks like you’re here too, Tavvy?” He inhales, closing his eyes. “I mean-- confound it.”

It’s Tavros sitting on that swing, no buts about it. But he tilts his head a slight and laughs, clearly balled up about the whole thing. “Tavvy...? That’s, uh... kinda cute, haha,” he laughs, turning away slightly to hide the flush across his face. “But uh, I think maybe you don’t, uh… you might be confusing me with a different me that maybe you met somewhere else?”

“Ah.”

Well that’s just downright embarrassing. Jake knows that by endgame, as it were, there are quite a few versions of everyone he knows or has known floating about; still, he’s only ever met one Tavros, a sprite that looked significantly less… 

Oh. Jake’s expression falters slightly as it clicks. Tavros perks up and reaches deep for some semblance of courage, slowly patting the swing beside him.

“You don’t have to go though, I mean, we can still hang out,” he smiles faintly. “Nobody really comes by my dream bubble, so… I don’t mind.”

“Well I’ve done quite a bit of ankling through this soupy nightmare, so,” Jake rubs the back of his neck. “A little rest sounds right ducky at this juncture.”

What to do? How does one go about beating their gums with a stranger that’s not quite a stranger at all? Jake crosses the woodchip warzone of this fabricated playground, dodging particularly splintery pieces. The chips scatter at his heels, parting and fluttering away like flower petals on the wind behind him.

As soon as he plops down on that bun-chillingly cold seat, the world wobbles, fractures all around the two of them. Jake clings to the frigid chains of the swing and closes his eyes to block out the swirling nausea as the whispers start up again. He opens them only when the noise dissipates, drawing a quiet gasp. 

Flowers stretch like little fractals across an endless field, forget-me-nots nestled up beside  violets all tucked between seafoam blades of grass. The swingset where Jake and Tavros have taken up perch is rusted now beyond repair, creaking with every slight movement they make.

Still, it holds them up.

“Dream bubbles are pretty neat, huh?” Tavros laughs a little, glancing at Jake’s raised eyebrows. “Just when you think you get used to them, they keep doing this stuff. But that’s kinda why they’re so cool? Everything keeps changing. I still don’t really get why, but it’s fine -- I’d probably get bored being uh, dead and stuff if they didn’t, haha...”

“It’s posilutely nifty! Though, I’m not too much of an expert on why it’s all like this. I do believe it’s got something to do with memories… argh, you’d have to ask Roxy about it, she’s better at explaining things. But you know, that’s probably why I ran into you here.” Jake hedges the swing forward a tad, kicking his legs back and forth. “I remember you -- er, I remember… sort of you?” Almost you? Is that rude? 

“Yeah, that makes sense. I guess the other me did some good stuff, or uh… he must have, if you remember him. That’s nice to know, sorta.” Tavros looks up, watching pink heart and diamond clouds drift on by against the blue. Streaks of pale orange ripple through the sky like it’s day and dusk at once. “I’m just glad I got to be useful in the end, kinda.”

“I know what you mean… we, erm. We talked about that, actually.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yes, erm. We did.” 

Jake looks out into the field of pastel buttercups and forget-me-nots. “I didn’t mention it before because I was a little too caught up in my confangled relationship conundrums, but I ought to thank you for how much you helped me out. I’ve still got a ways to go, but I think, er… I think you got me to sort some things in desperate need of sorting. And I don’t think I properly expressed how much that meant to me before the catastrophic walloping of foul green villains we had to contend with. Maybe you needed the same advice you were giving me, and I was too much of a lunkheaded clod to share the very, er, pleasant feeling of having a genuine conversation with you.” 

Goodness, the more he talks the more keeps spilling like a precious crystal vase tipped over and splashing water everywhere with no sign of stopping its tyrannical tsunami of fuckery. As the words leave his mouth little music notes dance around his head in blue and green, mingling with the flower petals on the breeze.

“A-and I think the most important thing to emphasize here in this present situation is that perhaps maybe you don’t feel as though you’ve done enough for anyone? If our situations are as similar as I’m led to believe, anyway. And in that case I must say that even if you’re not alive you can still be a hero! All you need to do that is spirit and dedication --  and you’ve got leaps and bounds of both, so you’re plenty heroic in your own right to me! Erm, I don’t know if this just sounds like gibbering poppycock right now or if it’s actually consoling to any degree but it’s true. So,” he clears his throat, stealing a glance in Tavros’ direction. “I do hope my expression of sappy sentiments here has been received and stored in your cranium for safekeeping and future reference and whatnot. Even if this is just a dream.”

Tavros stares at him, mouth hanging open slightly. For a few agonizing seconds of silence, Jake contemplates running and jumping off the nearest cliff he can find in this null space until like dawn breaking, Tavros’ expression evens into a smile. His laughter glitters in the spring air and for just a second Jake feels it glimmering in his chest, too.

“That’s, uh… that’s the nicest stuff anybody’s ever said to me. I dunno if it totally makes me feel better ‘cause uh, I’m still pretty dead, but you, uh, tried a lot. And that feels pretty great.” He stares down at his feet. “I’ll be around here basically forever, if… you ever come back.”  

Against his better judgment, Jake allows the twitch in his grubby, impulsive little hands to act. He reaches for Tavros’ free hand, the one closest to him that is not currently preoccupied holding the chains of the swing. They sit there finger-locked and dumbstruck, exchanging flustered stares. Neither dares to ask if they should let go. 

The silent agreement of warmth is enough.

“I haven’t woken up yet, so… want to swing a round or two? I’ll bet I can swing higher,” Jake chuckles. 

“I mean, probably, but in the interest of fun, you’re on.”

Hands still clasped together between them, both kick their legs and swing higher, brushing the faraway sunlight. The start’s a bit uneven but that’s no trouble at all -- once the rhythm is in place they kick off and reach for the skies. On the wind behind them trails of color dance and mingle in ribbons, colors that move like wings made of bright taffy and laughter. If he can just swing high enough, Jake is sure, they’ll both be able to launch off and take flight into that cherry-gold sunrise and never come back down and--

Soon as he flies off to the clouds, Jake comes crashing down to the waking silence of his room.


End file.
